Page 42 of Signed, SEALed, Delivered

Mr. Preston is on duty today, a retired police chief from a small town not too far from here. His wife works as a cook in the home of the Spencer's, a bigger gossip than my mother. What was about to happen here today would be all over the community before we made it to the gate. Officer Preston pulled the cart so it blocked Zach from immediately leaving. Ridiculous if you ask me, he could just back up and be gone in a flash.

"Mrs. Forrester, what seems to be the problem?" He questioned as he adjusted his ball cap. His pepper spray and radio were housed in the black utility belt that sagged around his hips.

"Officer Preston, I need you to remove this hooligan from my property. He is trespassing and unwelcome." This was easier than I thought, words meant to embarrass Zach would ignite the spread of the gossip. Officer Preston turned his attention to a slightly smiling Zach, leaning against the seat of the bike. Looking sexy as hell with his amused expression and lickable lips.

"Sir, can I see some identification?" I didn't expect that, but it was going to make what was about to happen that much sweeter.

"I don't want to know his name. I want him escorted off my property, immediately."

Officer Preston ignores my mother, signaling to Zach he did indeed need to see his identification. "Ma'am, I have to know who we are escorting off the property so we can place him on an alert list. If he returns after I escort him off, he can be arrested." The pleased smirk, which appeared on my mother’s face, would be short lived. Preston took Zach's driver's license, adjusted his eyeglasses and addressed him with respect. "Zachary Michaels, you are hereby asked to remove yourself from—"

I've never seen my mother do anything quickly, with the exception of handing her credit card over to a sales lady. However, the moment the officer spoke Zach's last name she shouted a firm, "Stop!"

All eyes turned in her direction. "Wha...what did you say?" This was my moment. I wouldn't get the opportunity to watch my father ask her for a divorce. To witness him separating her from the life she craved and the reality her reign was about to end, but I could see the beginning of her dethronement.

"Oh...did I forget to mention I was dating a Michaels?" I placed my hand over my mouth and widened my eyes in mock surprise. "Well, it must have completely slipped my mind." I turned to see Zach placing his driver's license back into his pocket; a smile forming, as he knew this was pure enjoyment for me. "Doesn't really matter now though, because you've asked him to leave."

"Wait!" The desperation was vibrating in her voice, a nightmare being created right before her very eyes. "For what, Mommy? You've asked Zach to leave, which is what we're doing. I wouldn't want to get him arrested knowing his mother would be upset. Although, I'm not certain she won't be, once she learns how you asked him to leave when he was invited by your daughter." Not wanting any real response from her, I turned my attention to Officer Preston. "Thank you so much for your quick response, we’ll be on our way. Please give your beautiful wife, Carol, a hug from me. I do hope she is doing well."

Turning away, I ignored my mother calling my name, pleading for me to stop and listen. I straddled the bike wrapping my body around Zach. He gave her a two-finger salute and tore out of there as if we had just stolen the bike from her. I reveled in the feeling of freedom. Not only from riding on the back of this monster of a bike, but freedom from the chains my mother had shackled me with, dominating my every move, thought, and controlling every action and reaction. I can finally place that part of my life behind me, like the distance we were traveling, the memories faded with each passing mile.

Squeezing Zach's midsection tighter, I place all my trust in his skills. I enjoyed the rush each twist and turn along the back roads gave me. With a final switch of gears, he pulled the bike over onto a secluded dirt road, adjacent to a small pond. Not a word was said as we held each other, and gazed out over the still water, enjoying the moment. The hard ground caused my butt to become numb and I finally relented, needing to get up and move around. Attempting to free myself from Zach's caged arms was a struggle as he wasn't ready to let go.

"Just a second more," he whispered against my temple. His fingers found my cheek turning my face toward his. "I was proud of you today. I know it took a lot of courage to stand up to your mother." His eyes flicked back and forth between mine, searching for something; reassurance, courage, I didn't know. What I did know, was the man who sat silently and gave me the stage to handle the situation as I chose, was my entire world. In a perfect move that completed a perfect day, his lips touched mine, reverent and respectful.

"You are an amazing woman, Kennedy. You always try and see the positive, even when nothing but negativity is looking back at you." He pauses, but the way he looks at me, tells me everything I need to hear. “I love you. It was easy as breathing to fall for you." His touch tells me this is for real, that it's okay for me to admit what I kept hidden for so long. Too worried he wouldn't return my feelings.

"I love you, too."

As the sun took its final dance against the peaks of the water, I embraced the man who had, not only rescued me from my dreary life, but also gave me hope something much better was on the horizon.

***

"Surely you can understand my concern, Claudia."

Emma Michaels had the voice of an angel, even when she was telling someone something they didn't want to hear. Just as I suspected, the ladies in my mother's neighborhood had spread the news of Zach being asked to leave the property.

"I have spoken in great length with my son, and your daughter, for that matter. Everyone's story is exactly the same, except for yours."

Zach had driven me over to his parent's house after our confession, Emma was in the developmental stages of getting a group of ladies together for a new campaign she wanted to start. Just like at my mother's home, Emma was waiting on her front steps, only she was smiling and welcoming me with hugs and praises.

"Honestly, Claudia, I had you on my short list as chairperson for the committee. You can certainly understand why I will need to remove your name, as this incident shows me exactly the type of person you are."

Last night, we sat around Emma's kitchen table where I spoke in great detail about why I did what I did. I shared with the both of them how good it felt to speak my mind and not what was expected of me.

"Claudia, he was wearing a five thousand dollar leather jacket! It was not something I bought on the clearance rack at one of your resale shops."It was a jab, and a good one. Mother's biggest charity was her thrift store on the lower east side. She had never stepped a foot inside it, but boasted about how it helped the neighborhood.

"I fail to believe you would not recognize the maker of the jacket since I know for a fact you were in a bidding war for a handbag with Lauren Wilkins last fall.” I remember the event fondly. The same company who made Zach's jacket released a line of handbags, only five of which were sold in the US. Mother was determined to have one in her collection. When she learned Lauren was bidding against her, the gloves came off. I don't know the particulars, but Lauren owns the bag in question.

“Furthermore, the death machine you are referring to, is a custom made motorcycle and we won't even speak of the costs. Claudia, we can have this conversation for as long as you wish. I can appreciate your explanation of the events, which occurred; however I cannot be swayed to change my mind as to your place on my team. I refuse to have a member who shows such distaste for a human being, only to flip on a dime when it's discovered who he is or, more importantly, who his family is. Do not think for one moment I have not heard how you abandoned your own son due to his choice in occupation. And ordering your grown daughter to the confines of her room because she showed up on the back of an expensive motorcycle, instead of the back seat of a Rolls-Royce."

My eyes bugged out my head and my hand covered my mouth. Emma's voice was slightly elevated and I detected a slight attitude in her tone. It was joyous, yet frightening at the same time.

"My daughter!" Emma shouted into the phone, her hand coming to rest on her chest. “If you would have kept the lines of communication open with your children, not shutting them out because they’ve chosen to avoid the mold you crafted for them, you would know that my daughter is practically living with your son—the tattoo artist. And while we are on the subject, you might want to remind your oldest daughter to use an alias when checking into an Atlanta hotel with a man other than her husband."

After Emma's declaration, the room fell silent and I could tell by the look on her face the conversation was at a standstill. I could mentally see my mother, standing in her ten thousand dollar shoes, gasping for air. This was so much better than anything I could have planned myself. Jason would only be upset he didn't get to watch our mother fall apart with his own eyes.

"You need to take a minute and do some serious soul searching, Claudia. Get a handle on the things in your life before it's too late, if it's not already."

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